From Best Friend To Fiancé (Savannah and Roman) novel Chapter 188

**Chapter 114: You Didn’t Show Up**

It was just another Tuesday at the office—or at least, as “just another” as a place like Goldberg & Associates could ever be. The phones rang incessantly, shrieking like children in the throes of a tantrum, while the acrid scent of coffee permeated the air, wrapping around us like a suffocating fog. The constant shuffle of files created a cacophony that sounded less like the hum of productivity and more like an off-key orchestra playing the symphony of my unadulterated misery. If someone were to bottle this chaos and market it, the label would undoubtedly read Corporate Hell No. 5.

As if the universe conspired to amplify our collective discontent, my boss—Mr. Goldberg himself—seemed to have risen from his slumber with a personal vendetta against all of humanity. He had been on a tirade since the clock struck nine, berating staff as if he were auditioning for the part of Satan’s secretary.

Well, almost everyone.

I know, I know—suspicious, right?

Under normal circumstances, I would have been his favorite target, not because I lacked competence—on the contrary, I was meticulous, organized, and borderline obsessive about meeting deadlines. No, it was simply the nature of office dynamics; someone had to be the sacrificial lamb. But today? Today, I was spared.

And therein lay the crux of the issue.

Goldberg and Roman shared a history that stretched far back. They were best friends, drinking companions, and golf buddies—whatever label grown men who believe that cigars and whiskey provide solutions to life’s problems choose to adopt. Ever since I got engaged to Roman, Goldberg had been treating me with an unusual tenderness. I could probably set an entire filing cabinet ablaze, and he would merely pat my head and say, “Accidents happen, Savannah. No need to fret.”

While this was fantastic for me, it created a veritable storm of gossip among the other employees. Their glances were not subtle; they were full-blown “The Office” camera stares, and whispers trailed behind me like an unwelcome shadow.

I could almost hear their thoughts swirling around me:

Why hasn’t Goldberg yelled at her?

Why does she get a free pass?

Are they… you know… having an affair?

Ugh. As if.

The mere thought of Goldberg in any context outside of this office was enough to send my mind spiraling. The man had three children, a wife, and a life that I had no desire to visualize. He wasn’t unattractive in the stereotypical “dad who golfs” sense; in fact, he was quite handsome. But imagining him in any… intimate scenario? No, thank you. My imagination had its limits, and that was one boundary I had no intention of crossing.

After the debacle with Penny at his office yesterday—God, just the thought of it made my skin crawl—I wouldn’t put it past him to show up unannounced. He was probably here to smooth things over, to charm me into forgiving him with nothing more than his disarming charisma. He was fully aware of my fury regarding Penny, and Roman was nothing if not strategic when it came to damage control. I had spent the night at his place, a silent declaration of my displeasure. I was certain he was here to show just how remorseful he was.

But my confidence began to waver the moment Alfred led me toward the reception area.

Roman wouldn’t wait there. That was far too pedestrian for him. He would be at my desk, reclining in my chair as though he owned the place, or perhaps he’d be upstairs in Goldberg’s office. The reception area felt too… public, too beneath his stature.

And then I caught sight of him—the familiar brown hair.

My breath hitched in my throat.

“Dean?”

The name escaped my lips before I could stop it. His head snapped up at the sound, our eyes locking in a moment that felt electric, charged with unspoken words and emotions swirling in the air between us.